


(Abs)olute Perfection

by OsoloNewsDay (TheOtherPerson), TheTwiceNamed



Series: When Two Sports Meet [1]
Category: Gymnastics RPF, Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: F/F, Femslash, Muscles, Olympics, abs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-22
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-10 09:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7839256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheOtherPerson/pseuds/OsoloNewsDay, https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTwiceNamed/pseuds/TheTwiceNamed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Emily Sonnett is obsessed with Aly Raisman's abs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	(Abs)olute Perfection

**Author's Note:**

> This started out when I asked TheTwiceNamed for a random pairing when I was bored. I wrote this for her because she is a bloody genius and one of my best friends. She made this perfection. I sculpted it, and she painted the features and beauty into it. Working with her is always a pleasure.

“Babe,” Aly whined, her hand already going down to wrap in Emily’s hair. “Come on, babe. You have to stop.”

Emily didn’t hear her, or at least didn’t act like she had. At the moment, Emily Sonnett’s mouth was attached to the gymnast’s abs, licking and sucking marks across tanned skin and perfectly toned muscle. She nipped the undersides of Aly’s breasts and dipped her tongue into her belly button. She softly nuzzled the fine line of fuzz that trailed down to Aly’s underwear. Mostly, though, she kissed every muscle and traced their definition lines with her tongue, worshipping Aly Raisman’s perfect abs.

A week ago, Emily had seen Aly from across the room in line at the cafeteria, her tight tank top riding up just enough to reveal two inches of tan, smooth skin. Just enough to show a hint of a v-cut leading down beneath the gymnast’s shorts. From that moment Sonnett had been hooked.

Aly’s hand tugged at the slightly older girl’s hair, trying to let her know that, however great her ministrations felt, this was far from the best time to be doing this. Today was their last day in Rio and neither had finished packing. Aly’s leos and sweats lay strewn about the room, mixed in with Simone’s things - Aly had locked the poor girl out of the room to spend time with Emily.

“Just five more minutes,” Emily whispered.

Aly shook her head, unable to muster the words for a verbal response; afraid a moan would escape in their stead. Emily sucked another hickey into the skin of her left hip making the gymnast throw her head back, biting her lip hard to keep quiet. The defender’s mouth felt like sin and sugar and spice all at once, but god did she have bad timing.

Aly knew if she let the girl continue, they’d be there for hours. Emily had a love affair with her abs. She knew it from the moment they’d met, when the soccer player had barely been able tear her eyes away from the little stripe of skin showing beneath her shirt. At first, Aly thought the girl was flustered or star struck or crushing too hard to speak, but when the young blonde’s eyes kept darting toward her abs, she’d figured out pretty quickly that none were the case.

The first time she’d taken her shirt off for Emily, the girl had nearly fainted. When she finally could string a coherent thought together, she’d dropped to her knees before the gymnast and pressed her forehead against Aly’s warm, hard stomach. Aly never thought she’d be one to partake in the hookup culture of the Olympics, but the absolute adoration Emily had held in her eyes in that moment had melted away her last inhibition and lit a flame for the defender in the pit of her stomach.

Aly’s phone buzzed. It was her parents. They’d actually met Emily just yesterday, though they’d thought her only a friend at the time, and had told Aly they adored the girl. Had they known the myriad ways the soccer player had touched and tasted their daughter over the past week, perhaps they wouldn’t have been so nice and welcoming. No matter. Neither girl was sure what this tryst even was. Aly didn’t know if she even wanted this to continue on past the Olympics, but God, the thought of Emily Sonnett waiting for her in Tokyo made her want to stretch this out for another four years. Emily was a shoe-in for the 2020 team, injury notwithstanding, but Aly was at the end of her career and a third Olympics would be nearly unprecedented for an American female gymnast.

Aly, although she hadn’t said so, had already thought about spending some of her vacation time in Portland. Maybe, she’d stop in to see Emily while she was there, let the girl worship her again like she was now. The attention was addictive. She had never known her abs could be so sensitive, but the way Emily worked her tongue along the taut muscles and pressed feather-light kisses everywhere she could reach lit up Aly like a wildfire.

“We have to stop.”

Though she was loathe to do so.

“But these are the abs that won Olympic Gold. Let me show my unending admiration, Al,” Emily whispered sucking on the flesh, leaving yet another mark on the otherwise flawless surface.

This made the younger woman snort and actually push the soccer player off of her. Emily looked at the skin she was just worshiping ready to dive back in, but Aly’s hand on her shoulder kept her at bay. “My abs aren’t what won the gold, Sonnett. I won. I did, not my abs.”

“Awe, come on Raisman. Without those beauties, you couldn’t do any of your fancy tricks.”

Emily might not be able to reach the abs with her mouth, but her hands had already found their way back. She couldn’t help it. She didn’t know when the last time would be that she’d get to touch Aly, and she wanted to enjoy every second of it that she could. When she looked down at Aly - topless, flushed, hair spread like black vines over her pillow - she understood why Michelangelo was obsessed with his David.

“Like you haven’t seen abs like these before,” Aly said, trying to swat the hands that were starting to tickle as they felt up her stomach. Before Emily, she hadn’t even known that an ‘ab fetish’ was something one could have. She had known a guy in college who had wanted to suck her toes and another who wouldn’t stop groping her breasts in the most uncomfortable fashion while they made out, but no one like Emily.

Emily looked at her lover sharply. “Lies. You listen to me, Aly Raisman and Aly Raisman’s abs,” she said actually looking at the younger woman’s stomach when she spoke the last part. “You are the most perfect thing I have ever seen. No woman I have ever met, including professional athletes, has ever had abs as awing as yours.”

Aly couldn’t help but be a little charmed. Emily was definitely a smooth talker, but the sincerity in her voice softened what would normally sound fairly cheesy. The days they had spent together hadn’t involved much talking, besides brief outings to the cafeteria to refuel, but she’d come to know Emily Sonnett as a genuine, big-hearted goofball who loved her friends and her family as fiercely as she played soccer.

“Come on, sweet talker,” Aly said, stroking her thumb across the other woman’s cheek affectionately. She knew they were both going to have to say goodbye soon, but not just yet. They still the afternoon before the closing ceremonies. First, though, she’d have to have breakfast with her parents and teammates, and figure out a way to blackmail Simone into silence about locking her out of their room.

Emily pouted. “After breakfast, can we come back here? Just us? I want to feel you again.”

The younger woman smiled. “I suppose, but you’d better hurry up. Marta and my parents will not be impressed if we are late, again.”

**Author's Note:**

> Whatcha think?


End file.
